Tunnels
by S-Michael
Summary: Artemis drags Juliet through a trollinfested labyrinth on a quest that, enjoying the dramatic revealing as he does, he will not tell her the goal of. Can this really be how they fall for each other? rated T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own _Artemis Fowl_…Holly does. Wait, what? This story ships Juliet/Artemis? Why didn't anyone tell me this before I wrote this disclaimer? I wrote this story _before_ writing the disclaimer? And who says that this isn't a comedy? Why am I making a joke of the disclaimer, then?

Tunnels

S-Michael

Artemis had used magic to make Juliet not question the fact that he was three years younger than he should have been. He had felt guilty about it, but it was that or try to convince her that he had been in cryogenic stasis for the years that elapsed while he was lost in time. It had been a tough choice, to lie or use magic, but there had been no third option…_unless you count telling her the truth._

No. There had been only two files on the disk he had given to Mulch for a reason. Artemis's fairy life was dangerous and deadly, and he hadn't wanted to expose her to that again. Artemis smiled to himself. _She's the bodyguard, and yet _I_ was trying to protect_ her But now he was dragging her into it again, in a matter of speaking. It wasn't fairies this time, (well, unless you count trolls) but something equally improbable. But it was for a good cause…

_I wish Butler were here,_ Artemis thought wistfully. But of course, Butler was an old man now. Fifty-eight, in spite of the age on his birth certificate. And if he wasn't… Artemis tried to think of something else. He looked at Juliet. She was in the plane seat next to him, supposedly reading a paper (_supposedly_ because she was a bodyguard, after all, and a Butler, no less). She had already been an adult when before Artemis left the world and returned three years late, and now she was even more so. He caught his eyes wandering, and forced himself to return to his book. _Damn puberty!_

Juliet hid a smile. Supposedly, she was reading a newspaper, but she was aware of everything that went on around her. (An assassination attempt on a plane going from Dublin to Miami was a vanishingly unlikely possibility, but still a possibility.) So, of course, she was aware whenever her employer stole a glance at her. Rather than annoyed, she was amused. _So he's finally going through puberty._ She had taken time off of the Mexican wrestling circuit in order to do this mission. After all, she was a Butler, and the Butlers were bodyguards. She wondered, though, which she preferred. Wrestling was a lot more glamorous and a lot less fatal, but being a bodyguard was the family calling.

She decided not to think about it. Still, it was hard not to think. She wondered what, exactly, they were going to do in Florida; Artemis, in typical Artemis Fowl the Second fashion, refused to divulge anything. In his own way, which had little to do with fashion and even less to do with his looks, he was very vain. Juliet made a study of him, and decided that, in time, he'd be quite the lady-killer. _Smart, rich, and pleasing on the eye: what female _wouldn't_ want him?_ She managed to think this, quite ironically, without the slightest tang of emotional pull herself. Even if he wasn't however many years younger than she was (her mind gave her two different numbers, somehow), he was still the principal. Principals and bodyguards did not form relationships; after all, one day, the bodyguard would die protecting the principal serving her ultimate purpose.

After landing in Miami, Juliet and Artemis hailed a taxi, and Artemis give the driver an address. If he thought there was something strange about a teenage boy and a woman in her twenties getting off a plane and immediately asking to go to a bar in a bad part of town, the driver didn't say anything about it.

"Normally, I prefer something a little less…dirty, but our _friend_ insisted that he meet us here. Supposedly so that his fiends couldn't find him," Artemis said when they got out of the cab. "It would just make him look more suspicious to me, if I were his friends. I mean, honestly: meeting a contact in a dark, shady underground joint: could you _be_ more cliché?"

Regardless, they walked into the bar, and Juliet was instantly on high alert. Her employer was right: this place _was_ a cliché: poorly lit, people huddling at tables, talking in hushed voices. One would think that there were a dozen conspiracies in Miami, and they were all fermenting in this very bar. Artemis made a beeline to a table in the back.

"Mister Valdez," Artemis said.

"H-h-how do you know?" the man sitting across from him asked.

"This place was such a cliché that I simply went to where you would have been waiting for me if it were a movie," Artemis said. "I am Artemis Fowl the Second."

"You? But—you're a kid," Valdez said.

"I also happen to be a genius," Artemis said.

"No doubt, but still, what possible use could _you_ have for—" he looked around to make sure no one was watching "—you know," he whispered.

"It's for a friend," Artemis said. "Now, then, do you want to get paid or not?"

"Alright," Valdez said. "If you go to St. Augustine—"

Artemis sighed dramatically. "I wish you hadn't of done that, friend."

"Done what?" Valdez said.

"You're already lying to me. I've already checked the St. Augustine angle, and there is nothing there. Your operation there is nothing but a façade to draw the eye away from what is really going on," Artemis said.

"We _thought_ someone was spying on us," Valdez said.

"Yes, it was me. Or rather, one of my agents, to be precise," Artemis said. "And sadly, you've proven to be untrustworthy. Now I'm going to have to require that you take us to it."

"And what if I don't?" Valdez asked.

"You don't get paid," Artemis said.

"I can live with that," Valdez said.

"Also, I'll have to inform the government about your embezzlement scam that you've been using to pay for your…lets say…'membership dues,'" Artemis said.

"You know?" Valdez asked.

"Of _course_ I know, Valdez, if that is indeed your name—and, of course, I know that it's not. Why do you think I approached _you?_ You have something I can hold over your head, something I can go to the authorities with and not be laughed out of Florida. In short, I have leverage over you," Artemis said. "Now then, you're going to take us to the _real_ entrance."

"Tonight? It's in the Everglades," Valdez protested.

"Tomorrow morning. I want to be rested, so that we don't make mistakes. Besides, it'll be easier travel during the day," Artemis said, "but first, there is some equipment we need to pick up. Why don't you ride with us, Valdez?"

Juliet didn't know what those fan-powered flat-bottomed boats used in the everglades were called. She could have asked Artemis, but not in front of the contact. Bodyguards were supposed to be intimidating, and admitting to the slightest ignorance would have made her less intimidating. It was hard enough, being so curvy. She looked at the equipment Artemis had told her to pack: mountain climbing gear, searchlights, two elephant hunting rifles with plenty of ammo, an entire _bag_ full of white phosphorous grenades, high-power flares, a minigun out of a helicopter set on a tripod (how had he gotten _that?_), and a computer survailence system with a set of machine guns that could be programmed to kill anything that approaches. _Why do we need this stuff?_ She hoped that they weren't poaching alligators. As soon as she thought that, she knew it was ridiculous; Artemis considered himself an environmentalist. Besides, that would only account for _some_ of this stuff.

They approached…a well. A well, in the middle of the swamp. Yeah, _that_ made sense. Artemis went to the well. Juliet already knew from his expression that he already knew that it was a fake. She didn't know how he knew, or even what they were looking for, but she knew that he knew that this wasn't it, and was just going through the motions of testing it. There was a rock on the rim of the well. He knocked it in, and listened for it to hit bottom.

"There's water in this well," Artemis said.

"Well, it's a well," Valdez said.

"Don't toy with us, Valdez," Artemis snapped. "I tire of your games. Take us to the _real_ entrance, or else."

Valdez turned the boat on. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

The next location was a mile deeper into the swamp. Juliet could tell that he knew that _this_ one was real, but she couldn't tell how he could be so confident. It looked exactly like the last one, right down to the carvings of strange creatures around the edge. Artemis lit a flare and dropped it. She wasn't looking down the well, or entrance, or whatever, as they had about a hundred pounds of weaponry in the boat with a man who had already tried to trick them twice and was only here because they were blackmailing him, but she did hear a sound like a distant wail coming from the well. Just her imagination?

"Stupid trolls," she heard Artemis whisper. Troll? What did _that_ mean? Then aloud he said: "Alright, this is the spot. Juliet, secure the climbing rope to something. Valdez, I expect you to be here when we get back."

"And just why would I be?" he asked.

"We should tie him up," Juliet said.

"No way! I'm going to die of exposure!" Valdez complained.

"We're only going to be down there for three hours," Artemis said.

"How can you possibly know that? There's a labyrinth of subterranean tunnels down there," Valdez said.

"I have a map," Artemis said.

"What? How can you _possibly_ have a map? _We_ don't even have maps," Valdez said.

"I have sources that you wouldn't believe—not even _you_, Mr. Valdez," Artemis said.

"And did your mysterious source tell you about the monsters that guard the tunnels?" Valdez asked. Juliet thought: _Monsters. Right._

"What do you think the heavy weaponry is for?" Artemis asked. _He can't mean _monster_ monsters, can he?_ Juliet decided to save the questions for later.

Artemis knew that the first well was a fake. For one thing, Valdez was just the type of person to try to weasel out of something until the last moment. For another thing, the dancing elves around the well were slightly off. You'd have to either be familiar with the well or with the culture that built it in order to tell the difference, but Artemis was the latter. Finally, this place was a magical null, and unlike in modern fairy society, the fairies who built this place relied on magic for everything. Magic is still a big part of what it is to be a fairy, but these people used it for everything, and he meant _everything_. Without wizards, they wouldn't have had so much as a functioning toilet. Still, he had to pretend that there was some possibility that this was the right well. He noticed a rock on the lip. Good; he wouldn't have to waste a flare to prove a point.

And so he went through the song and dance of testing the well, finding water at the bottom of it. That was fortunate, as it meant he'd only waste a minimal of time in here instead of having to go down there and prove that the well didn't go anywhere, but it was hardly blind fortune. The well was waterproof, or else the water from the swamp would seep in. Therefore, it must also collect rainwater, and so unless these people had emptied it recently, it should have water in it. He doubted that they were adamant about it. After all, what was the likelihood that someone would come along who actually knew what they were doing? A number slightly under zero, the people responsible for this ruse figured. Fools. Come on: _someone_ had to have built their secret little ruin, and therefore someone would be able to find some reference to it somewhere, in some culture.

"There's water in this well," Artemis said.

"Well, it's a well," Valdez said.

"Don't toy with us, Valdez," Artemis snapped. "I tire of your games. Take us to the _real_ entrance, or else."

"Can't blame a guy for trying," Valdez said.

Artemis had to admit one thing, though. These people were good at keeping a secret. Who would have thought that since the dawn of the sixteenth century, there had been a secret organization operating in Florida, it's vital heart down a ten-thousand-year old well and hidden in a troll infested labyrinth. Even the normally-paranoid Foaly hadn't figured it out. But Artemis had. He smiled to himself. Underneath the Everglades, there was something that people would sell their eternal souls for, be they human or fairy, and Artemis was stealing some of it just so he could give it away.

The next well was indeed the correct one. He could _feel_ it, and he dropped a flare down the well, even though he already knew what would happen. Most of it. The flare hit ground, and a troll that was standing too close ran screaming.

"Stupid troll." Right; anyway: "Alright, this is the spot. Juliet, secure the climbing rope to something. Valdez, I expect you to be here when we get back."

"And just why would I be?" he asked.

Before he could answer, Juliet said: "We should tie him up."

"No way! I'm going to die of exposure!" Valdez complained.

_Typical,_ Artemis thought. _After all he's done to stay alive, any possibility of death terrifies him._ "We're only going to be down there for three hours," he said.

"How can you possibly know that? There's a labyrinth of subterranean tunnels down there," Valdez pointed out.

"I have a map," Artemis said, and left it at that.

"What? How can you _possibly_ have a map? _We_ don't even have maps," Valdez said.

"I have sources that you wouldn't believe—not even _you_, Mr. Valdez," Artemis said. Of course, he had to call in every favor the fairies owed him—and considering that he saved the world a couple three times, that was saying something. _Ah, well. I guess that the next time I need something, I'll just have to save the world again._

"And did your mysterious source tell you about the monsters that guard the tunnels?" Valdez asked, resentful of Artemis's vague answers.

Artemis smiled smugly. "What do you think the heavy weaponry is for?"

Artemis was an expert at reading people, and Juliet was one of the people who were close to him, besides—not to mention that this accursed puberty had him paying _a lot_ more attention to her than what was necessary. Long story short, it was as if he could read her mind: _He can't mean _monster_ monsters, can he?_ This was a question of skepticism, not fear; it was as if Valdez had been worried that the tooth fairy would show up. He'd answer the question when she asked. His answer would even be more or less truthful. The trolls would be driven away by the flare, and it was time to go.

"We don't need to tie Mr. Valdez up," Artemis said. "He'll stay. After all, after doing all this, he wants his money. After all, he might as well get something out of this. Besides, he's also going to need the antidote." And with that, Artemis repelled down the well. _Let Mr. Valdez chew _that_ one over._ There were places in Florida where wells were three hundred feet deep, simply because there was no bedrock to keep them from collapsing upon themselves any higher than that (the entire state was a giant sand dune). This well went much, much deeper, and yet Artemis and Juliet repelled down this rope with grace.

After getting chased by a pack of trolls, Artemis had promised himself to get in shape. Ever since, he had worked on his cardio. Running, jogging, swimming, etcetera. He really couldn't care less about being _buff_, though, as it wouldn't matter how buff he was if he ever had to face a troll again, only how fast he could run in the opposite direction. (He thought this unironically as he descended into a nest of trolls.) Besides, if he were buff, then he would have to replace all of his suits. He had better things to do with his time than weight train. It was hard just finding time for cardio.

"When you say monsters, you don't mean _monster_ monsters, do you?" Juliet asked, right on time (that is, the second they were out of range of Valdez's hearing).

"Any animal that is unknown or hostile towards humans seems to be a monster," Artemis said. "These creatures will indeed be monsters, but they're also just animals. The light ought to scare them away from us, but just in case, well, we came prepared." And they repelled deep into the earth.

Juliet did not like this answer. All of this heavy weaponry was to stave off _animals?_ Minigun, elephant guns, machine guns, grenades? In spite of his assurance that the animals would be afraid of light, Artemis was packing like he expected an all-out war. And wasn't sure that he was going to win. And then she realized that he was ahead of her. If these creatures were so dangerous, shouldn't she be in front so that she could protect him? He said that the light would scare them off, but one hundred and fifty pounds of material called him a liar. (The fifty pounds that wasn't counted before were computer equipment and spare ammo—the last count only tallied weaponry.)

They landed, unhooked themselves, and unhooked their equipment. The first thing Artemis did was turn on a searchlight, which illuminated everything a bit too well. Juliet was momentarily blinded. There were four corridors. Artemis left a spotlight attached to a computerized machinegun at the mouth of three of them, carried one spotlight and dragged the rest of the machine guns and computers and spotlights on the trolley behind him. The rest, of course, was Juliet's responsibility to carry. Eighty pounds of equipment, not including ammo. It wasn't as if she couldn't do it, though; Juliet was trained by the best, after all, and could carry up to a hundred and eighty pounds on a perfectly flat plane without too much strain—one and a half times her weight, or nearly.

Their path was a gradual decline. That was good because it would make the going on the way down a little bit easier, but bad because it would make coming back just that much harder. It shouldn't matter, if they weren't going far, And Artemis had told Valdez to wait for three hours. That would be an hour and a half up-hill at most, assuming that the slope remained constant. No problem. Assuming the slope remained constant. Every time they approached a fork in the road, Artemis set up the computer-machinegun-spotlight trio in the paths they were not using.

"Paranoid?" Juliet asked.

"Believe me, when dealing with these animals, it pays to be paranoid," Artemis said.

Juliet cocked an eyebrow. He sounded like he was talking from experience, not research. Not enough cockiness, too much weariness, and even a trace of fear. Fear? Nothing scared Artemis Fowl. Then again, why would it? He was always three steps ahead of everybody else. It was a good thing he had no interest in world domination, because Lex Luther had nothing on Artemis Fowl. Except that Artemis wouldn't have any idea who Luther was, as he didn't read comic books. Ever.

She heard a machinegun behind them fire for a few seconds. What was that? Then another one fired. Then another one. Then one started firing, but did not stop. "Hey, uh, Artemis? What are those guns programmed to shoot at?"

"Warm-blooded entities significantly larger than a human," Artemis said. "After all, we don't want to end up shooting ourselves."

Then one of the spotlights broke.

Artemis checked his GPS. In the last few minutes, according to it, he had traveled a significant distance eastward, towards the Atlantic. Or rather, the inaptly-named Bermuda triangle. This was to be expected. The ancient fairies didn't have automobiles, and so they put distance-shrinking spells on all of their major thoroughfares. _And some minor ones, apparently._ These were doubly-efficient, because they made you get there faster, and since the way was not part of the "real" world, it couldn't be attacked by, say, a bunch of Mud Men with stone spears. Or a thermonuclear device, for that matter. And it wouldn't show up on any way of scanning the earth. If you dug for it, you would not find it, and the original cave system this labyrinth was modeled on could be anywhere in the world, if it even still existed. Or it could be several cave systems, all mixed into one another. That's what he would have done. So, this was likely the largest cave system in the world, and impossible to navigate. Unless you knew what you were doing. And Artemis did.

Qwan had gotten him maps of the labyrinth he'd have to cross, and highlighted his course. It helped that he had been around before this place was lost. The demon warlock really liked Artemis, and had offered to train him. Artemis had claimed that he had lost his stolen magic on the transition back to the real world, but Quan had just smiled knowingly, saying, _Of course you have. And if you ever have any troubles controlling…puberty…just come to me._ Most of the fairies had been scared to a panic by the idea of Artemis Fowl with magic, even temporarily. (Nº1 hadn't been, but he was nearly completely inexperienced with humans and Artemis in particular.) He'd had called in a truckload of favors from Foaly in order to have him look for certain individuals who fit a certain pattern. Fake ID's, large withdrawals of money that don't seem to go anywhere, birth certificate fraud, and more. Artemis didn't tell Foaly what he was after. Let him think it was gangs or something. Even the fairies didn't know that what he was looking for here really existed. It was only pure luck that the humans who found it lived to tell the tale, or rather, to horde the knowledge to themselves, for nearly five hundred years.

These were some of the thoughts in Artemis's head. Some. Puberty had been forcing him to think about girls an alarming amount lately, and most recently, most of that was directed at Juliet. _I've just been alone with her to long,_ he told himself. _Alone with her…_stop it! He did not need this.

The machine guns began to fire.

"Hey, uh, Artemis? What are those guns programmed to shoot at?" Worried that they were wasting their ammo killing innocent voles, no doubt. There wouldn't be—couldn't be—anything _innocent_ in here, but Juliet wouldn't know that.

"Warm-blooded entities significantly larger than a human," Artemis said. "After all, we don't want to end up shooting ourselves."

Then one of the spotlights broke. _Uh-oh,_ was his first thought. His second:_ I am a freaking idiot._ Trolls feared light, but they _hated_ getting shot at. Apparently, they hated getting shot at more than they feared light. And machine gun bullets weren't enough to stop them. Rather, not enough to stop them in time to help Artemis and Juliet.

Juliet froze when the first of the monsters came into view. Artemis didn't really blame her. All the bodyguard training in the world couldn't prepare you for a beast out of legend. Unless you knew it was coming. It charged.

"Juliet," Artemis said, only the slightest tremble in his voice reveling that he was anything but calm.

She snapped out of it, and took action. Elephant gun. She shot the beast, and it went down. Another one. She shot again. Down. She had to reload. The next two where closer when the fell. She was a crack shot, and could reload in a snap, but that snap was enough time for the trolls to get perceptibly closer. "Minigun," she said.

Artemis knew what she wanted him to do. Even an idiot would have, and Artemis Fowl was anything but an idiot. The minigun was attached to her back. For a split second, he tried to think of a way to get it off without disturbing her aiming and firing. Then he detached the strap. If only it were that simple. Well, in terms of objectivity, it was that simple, but few thing in life were objective, especially not to a pubescent boy. When he grabbed the gun, he was acutely aware that he was touching her…the back of his knuckles felt her bra under her shirt, where, he could tell, it snapped close…and open…_snap out of it!_ He scolded himself. His mind worked so fast that this whole transaction took a split second, and he had barely lost any time. He set up the heavy minigun on its tripod that didn't look as though it could support it, and then Juliet took over. Which, being in an understandable hurry, she did by knocking Artemis to the ground.

He looked up at her, watched as she gunned down trolls with extreme fervor and aggression, and thought, _DAMN, that is hot!_ He told himself that this was hardly appropriate, but on the ground, staring up at this amazing woman, it seemed _very_ appropriate. It seemed to go on forever. She must have wiped out a whole pack of trolls.

"Hey, Artemis, are you alright?" Juliet asked, offering him her hand. Artemis didn't respond. Not with words, that is. He took her hand, pulled himself to his feet, stood on tip-toes, pulled his face to his and kissed her, full on the lips, hard. Neither spoke, the blushed in the harsh light. Then Juliet smiled and said, "Can I take that as a 'Thank you'?" The moment was over.

"I'm sorry. My emotions got the better of me—I mean, my hormones. Yeah, those," Artemis said lamely.

"It happens," Juliet said. She looked at the creatures. "I've never seen anything like these animals before. Hands, are they primates? But tusks…never seen anything like this."

_Oh, no,_ thought Artemis. This was a very bad time for her to start asking questions. After they had what they came for, sure, but right now wasn't good. They had a mission to accomplish. Still, he admired her scientific curiosity. It was something that was discouraged in a bodyguard. "They'll still be here when we come back."

"I suppose you're right," Juliet said. "What's our next move, fearless leader?"

Artemis went to check his map, which was inside of his GPS locator. It was broken.


	2. Chapter 2

Juliet didn't know what these creatures were that she was shooting at, but she did know that they were becoming a lot deader than they were before they met her. The adrenaline was pumping, the endorphins were being produced in massive quantities, and she was feeling totally _kick-ass!_ She had seen a minigun used as a personal weapon once. Only once. And that was in the movie, _Terminator II_. When she saw Arnold Schwarzenegger destroy all those police cars, she _knew_ that, just once in her life, she wanted to do that. Well, she had just gotten her wish. Just as she began to worry about reloading the minigun, the creatures stopped charging. She must have killed—well, lots.

She turned to Artemis, grinning cockily. It felt _good_. "Hey, Artemis, are you alright?" She offered him her hand. He pulled himself to his feet with alarming speed, and took her face in his hands and kissed her. For a second, Juliet froze, acutely aware of what he tasted like.

She was so shocked, that when he pulled away, all she could to for a good span of time was stare at him, as they both blushed. It could have been a second, it could have been an hour. Suddenly she snapped out of it. _He's just a boy,_ she scolded herself. She said, "Can I take that as a 'Thank you'?"

"I'm sorry. My emotions got the better of me," his blush deepened, and quickly added: "I mean, my hormones. Yeah, those."

"It happens," Juliet said. She looked at the creatures. "I've never seen anything like these animals before. Hands, are they primates? But tusks…never seen anything like this."

"They'll still be here when we come back."

"I suppose you're right," Juliet said. "What's our next move, fearless leader?"

Artemis looked at his watch. "My GPS is broken," he said. "Drat, that had my map in it."

"So, what, we turn back?" Juliet asked.

"Not just yet. You see, I have a theory to navigating this place that is genius in its simplicity," Artemis said.

"And that would be?" Juliet asked, wishing he would can the dramatics.

"Always take the lowest road," Artemis said, smiling impishly.

"That's it?" Juliet asked.

"I have three very good reasons why it should work," Artemis said.

"Really?" Juliet asked.

"Firstly, the people who built this place would need some way to memorize which way to go, something simple, but something outsiders would miss," Artemis said.

"This place is man-made?" Juliet asked.

"In a manner of speaking," Artemis said. "Secondly, there is only one place in this complex where they wouldn't worry about flooding, and that's where we're going. It would make sense to have it so that all of the rainwater that comes down from the well would go down to the lake."

"Lake?" Juliet asked.

"You'll see," Artemis said.

"This better not be some sort of weird _Journey to the Center of the Earth_ thing," Juliet said.

"Oh, we're not going quite that far. But it promises to be weird," Artemis said.

_Now, what does that mean?_ Even if she asked, Juliet knew that he wouldn't answer.

He went to the trolley and played with a computer. "Machine guns only serve to make them angry enough to attack in spite of their natural fear of light. I just took those liabilities offline."

"What of the third good reason then," Juliet asked.

"It has worked so far," Artemis said, grinning. "Let's go." And so he walked away, putting up searchlights in all of the unused tunnels to keep the creatures back.

In spite of being in an uncharted cave network filled with bloodthirsty, primate-like monsters, it got rather boring. Juliet looked at Artemis, and thought about the feel of his lips on hers… _Stop it; he's just a boy._ Still, she recalled her thoughts on the airplane to Miami: _Smart, rich, easy on the eye; what female could resist him?_ (or something to that effect), only now she was acutely aware that she was female. _Rich_ was easy enough to dismiss; she wasn't that kind of girl. _Easy on the eye_ (the phrase she preferred, as Artemis wasn't _handsome_ in the traditional sense of the term, but _beautiful_ sounded a bit too effeminate) was a bit harder. They say that looks aren't everything, but they only say that when there is some deficiency large enough to make you not care what they look like (i.e., being a jerk). Back burner. Which left _smart_. That was a tricky one. She remembered him as this bossy little kid, this pain arrogant pain who couldn't even be called on his arrogance because he just so happened to always be right, the little genius. (_Huh,_ she thought; _did I just argue that it is justifiable to be an arrogant snob until you are wrong about something and have to eat your words?_) He had matured since then, though. He was still arrogant at times, but didn't treat the people around him as his own personal playthings or the scum of the Earth like he once did. She remembered a conversation they had once…

"_Say, do you know who Aleš Hrdlička was?" Artemis asked idly, pronouncing the name A-_lesh_ Herd-_lish_-ka._

"_Should I?" Juliet asked._

_Artemis shrugged, "Probably not. He was an anthropologist, one of the first to argue that Native Americans crossed the Bering Straight. He became the first curator of physical anthropology of the U.S. National Museum, which would later become the Smithsonian Institution National Museum of Natural History, in 1903, and was the founder of the _American Journal of Physical Anthropology_. He even had a WWII liberty ship named in his honor. As it would turn out, he was incredibly hidebound, though, and refused to believe that the Americas were peopled in the Pleistocene, even _after_ Clovis and all that…you know about Clovis, right?"_

"_Rings a bell," Juliet had said. "Something about an arrowhead in a mammoth bone, or something."_

"_If we were actually talking about anthropology in the Americas, I'd be appalled, but that's good enough for this discussion," Artemis said._

"_What are we discussing, then?" Juliet asked._

"_The ability of pride to cloud the judgment of normally-brilliant people," Artemis said. "A few more of the things that Hrdlička considered to be 'intellectual fads' include female scientists, genetic analysis, and the entire discipline of statistics." Artemis chuckled snidely. "Even such _simple_ statistical measurements as standard deviation were conspicuously absent from the _American Journal of Physical Anthropology_. I flatter myself that if I am ever proven wrong about something, I would have the courtesy and the common sense to realize and admit defeat, and then proceed to integrate the new data into my thinking in order to form a new hypothesis."_

"_Is there a point to this story?" Juliet asked._

"_Hmm? I didn't already explain it? Ah, well: it's just that one can never allow oneself to be blinded to the truth of things by one's arrogance. All I'm saying is that you must always be prepared for, or at least open to, the possibility that everything you think you know is wrong, and that the universe is a much more _magical_ place than you think it is._

Juliet noticed the emphasis on "magical," but also that it wasn't wistful, more like he was hinting at something. "And what are you getting at with that?"

"Oh, you meant 'what was the relevance of that story?'" Artemis said. "Nothing at all. I was just thinking of this story I ought to tell you some time." As much as she would later try, he would not elaborate on this point.

Why did this pop into her head _now?_ Duh: it was a peak into his character, which she was desperately trying to find flaws in. Every flaw had an extenuating circumstance, though. He was a bit arrogant, but who wouldn't be, when they were so much smarter than everyone around them? And he could have been a lot worse—in fact, he used to be worse. He was overly ambitious, but that was again a factor of his intellect. Being so young and so gifted, he wanted to do everything—and to do it _first_. Because he had the capability to be the youngest to do anything he chose, he wanted to be the youngest to do _everything_, and not only that, but the _best_ at any one thing, even when doing three or five things at a time. And he wouldn't be young forever, so he had an imaginary time limit to fulfill his ambitions. It was a good thing he didn't set his sights on world domination…

_He's still just a boy,_ Juliet told herself, returning to the topic at hand before she could end up fawning over him too much. In a way, this was the weakest argument of all. The reason it wasn't okay to have relationships with children was because they supposedly weren't capable of realizing the possible consequences of their actions. This theory was about as far from applying to Artemis Fowl as it could get.

Part of her mind kept telling her that it was disgusting, but that was hardly proper reasoning. People considered many things to be disgusting—homosexuality, eating insects, sushi: that did not make these things wrong. "Disgusting" was a matter of opinion.

Still, it seemed almost sacrilegious. She was a Butler, he was a Fowl; Butlers did not fall in love with Fowls, they served them. Besides: getting involved with an impressionable youth who just so happened to be filthy rich? _It's not like that,_ but part of her would always nag at her, believing that it was—and everyone else would believe that it was "like that," too. Not that she cared what people think, she told herself, but part of her doubted even that.

She didn't know how far they had traveled, when suddenly, impossibly, one of the tunnels had light at the end of it.

"That _can't_ be right," Artemis said. "We're still ten minutes from the end, according to my calculations, and it's not the lowest road." He went forward to investigate anyway. Juliet followed. The rock turned to ice (ice? In _Florida?_), as if the rock simply merged into it, and above their heads, they could see the distant sun. "Clever," Artemis said, and then he disappeared.

Artemis couldn't believe his eyes when he saw light. It turned out to have just been a section of ice in the rock cavern. It made sense, as far as it went (after all, there are cave systems in icebergs, too—ever-changing, unmappable cave systems), but the problem was that even to someone who wasn't exactly a geologist (and Artemis _was_: he noticed several queer oddities where the builders went from something from one cave system to something from another, or even just seemed to make stuff up), ice would stand out against rock. This piece of ice was here for the sole purpose of confusing anyone who came this way, and trick them into coming this way. "Clever," Artemis said. He realized that there could only be one possible reason for such a distraction just a millisecond before the ice cracked and he was sucked under.

_Of course it's a trap!_ Artemis's brains screamed at him as he was being dragged under, struggling to breath. _What other purpose could there be for such a place—a pleasant detour from the troll-infested labyrinth? Obviously, it was meant to draw people in and keep them._ His body screamed for air, and he tried to swim against the current, but it was too strong for him. Just as he was about to give up (not voluntarily; there was only so much a person could ask of his body, even under threat of impending doom), he felt someone grab him, and drag him back up to the surface, and then she (he couldn't see who it was or this person's sex, but there was only one possible person) dragged them both out of the water.

Artemis was laying face-up, and Juliet stripped him of his water-bogged clothes. (There was nothing sexual about it, of course. When a person is wet and suffering from hypothermia, you get them out of their wet clothes. It's just common sense.) He was so preoccupied with not dying that he didn't even care that she was wearing only bra and panties, except to note, with scientific detachment, that she probably took her clothes off before jumping in and trying to rescue him, being someone who was actually smart and knew that she wouldn't be very good as a rescuer if she was carrying a lot of dead weight (well, waterlogged). She dragged him under a lantern and they lay entangled, face-to-face. Again, it was not sexual. They had to warm each other up. The baking light would help, but each other's body heat, that was the real ticket. Still, as felling returned to his body, so did emotional feeling. Being held in her arms, he felt safe. She had an athlete's build, he was acutely aware. Muscular, but not freakish, like those muscle-people, men and women with so much muscle mass that they barely seemed human anymore. His body felt hers around it, knew that she wouldn't hurt him, and felt safe. This was a novel experience. For so long, he had challenged the world, not letting it too close, except for some select individuals (Holly, Butler), and never anyone _this_ close. Holly, and even, strangely, Butler, were people that he felt he had to protect, whereas at this moment, he felt protected.

He wondered if it were a cliché: to feel safe held in her arms. Artemis quickly decided that it was the precise inverse of the cliché: in all the romance novels he had read, it was the woman or girl who felt safe in the man's arms. Artemis had always found this to be exceedingly boring, and sexist besides. By the time he had turned seven, having read a fair amount of the trashy, cliché-ridden genre, he swore that when the time come when he would inevitably be interested in women (unless it turned out that he was part of the other ten percent…which it didn't), he would avoid those clichés at all costs. Even as he did this, though, he wondered if it wasn't his version of how boys his age hated "mushy stuff" (and yet were interested in trying to figure out where babies came from—Artemis wasn't, but then, he figured it out when he was four). Part of him was pleased at having remained true to his childhood vow (so far), but the rest…the rest was trapped in the moment, on the feel of her body on his, the strength of her arms as she held him close, even if just for warmth.

He looked into her eyes, and it was almost like being _mesmerized_. It was almost compulsory; he kissed her. For the second time in as many hour and as many decades, Artemis Fowl kissed a girl.

"I'm sorry about that," Artemis said. "I fully realize, that as an adult, you can never return my affection for you, which by now there is no point in covering up…"

"Artemis," Juliet interrupted. "I have been running all the arguments through my head for why it would be wrong to have feelings for and/or strike up a relationship with you, the question of age being prominent among them, and the more all the same arguments repeat themselves, the less valid they seem to become."

"Really?" Artemis asked, his heart pounding, his endorphins rising, his—well, lets just say that with the front of him pressed to the front of her, Juliet could tell that Artemis was _very_ happy to be there. Knowing that there was no chance had allowed him to keep his excitement in check, but if there was—

"Don't read too much into it. I may see common sense again as soon as we leave this cave, or decide that I don't like you and go date some other genius fifteen-year-old," Juliet smiled at her own joke, "but until then…"

"What happens in a troll-infested cave a thousand feet beneath Florida, _stays_ in a troll-infested cave a thousand feet beneath Florida," Artemis agreed. And then they kissed. "Too bad we're already running late, or that would mean something," he sighed.

They got up, donned their clothes, and continued their journey. It wasn't that much farther, by that point. _Ah,_ he thought. _Here comes the climax._

Juliet's mouth dropped open as they approached their destination. She looked up through hundreds of feet of water to the surface, and asked, "What _is_ this?"

"It's an illusion," Artemis said. He was telling the truth. Sort of. It was real, but _they_ were phased out of reality, in a dimension that was just a degree off of being parallel to their own.

Four billion years ago, the Earth was a fiery place devoid of life, and then came rain, when a giant comet struck the earth, bringing to it life-giving water and host of microorganisms that would evolve into all life on Earth. Except for demons, he amended mentally, but even he wasn't paying attention. The core of that comet was the stuff of life, the stuff of magic, the stuff of _being_. This very core formed an island in the middle of a mist-enshrouded lake, with water flowing down and around it in an almost natural-looking corkscrewing river that bubbled from the peak. This wasn't natural, though. It was man-made, or rather, fairy-made.

Because of a law of nonparallel dimensional physics, any threshold between two three-dimensional planes had to be two-dimensional. This was fine to the fairies. Because of another, more complicated law, a tunnel's two thresholds had to face opposite directions. This meant that a tunnel couldn't end five feet before where it begun, annoying a lot of would-be tricksters (they eventually found a way around that, using _two_ nonparallel dimensions, but this was highly taxing, even by the standards of the kind of people who make tunnels through alien dimensions), but otherwise, the fairies were fine with that, too. Artemis had seen a diagram of this place, or rather, the mechanisms that kept the fountain at the top of the "island" going. The bottom end of the tunnel opened onto an underground lake of boiling water, which managed to keep enterprising dwarves from chewing a shortcut into this chamber, but that wasn't it's intended purpose (just a delightful side-effect).

The boiling cauldron of water was connected to the center of the earth through a much smaller and much more straightforward tunnel through the dimensions, which brought heat to the water. The heated water rose into a chimney cut into the alien rock and then poured down it's outside into the lake, which then sent water back into the cauldron by way of a third tunnel, completely within the tunnel that Artemis and Juliet were in, that functioned only one way. The entire thing functioned like an ancient, magically-expensive steam engine.

This artificial spring, river, and lake didn't exist just because it looked cool, though. The rock was too powerful to be touched, but if they managed to distill its power into water, they managed to come up with a beautiful healing potion. Yes, this was a spring of healing. Unfortunately, neither Artemis nor Juliet were anything but young and perfectly healthy, and there _was_ such a thing as too much of a good thing. Artemis could feel the minutes being pulled off his life just standing here.

He approached the lake, pulling a pitcher and a bottle of water from his bag, some name brand, something he got simply because it was almost precisely the size he needed. He dipped the pitcher in, and then pulled it out before dumping the contents of the bottle into the lake and then refilling it (he didn't want to dilute the water he took away from here), careful not to spill so much as a drop on himself. Filling it the precise amount, it looked like he had taken a few swigs of it. That was good, as a bottle of water that had been open but was still _full_ might arouse suspicion. He wasn't actually doing anything illegal; after all, who ever heard of smuggling _water?_ And he was certain that if the authorities tested it (for drugs, as an example), it would register as nothing but distilled water.

"Where are we?" Juliet asked.

Artemis capped and bagged his bottle and bagged his pitcher. Then, pointing with his non-deformed hand, he said: "Bermuda is roughly northeast of us, Miami roughly west-southwest of us, and Puerto Rico roughly southeast of us. We're just about equidistant from all three points."

The mental calculations were not difficult: "So, in other words, we're in the center of the Bermuda Triangle. When did this turn into an episode of the _Twilight Zone_?"

"I'll explain on the way up," Artemis said. "Let's just go."

Then a figure in conquistador-style armor rounded the island and came into sight. "Hey," you're just a kid," he said in old-fashioned Spanish.

"I'm plenty capable, despite my age," Artemis said.

"Maybe, but why would a kid come _here_, capable or not?" the conquistador pointed out.

Oh. Right. "It's for a friend," Artemis said.

"And what's _this?_" the conquistador stared at Juliet.

"A woman. You know, female of the species," Artemis said cheekily.

"I know that! But, you brought a woman down here? There's monsters—it's no place for the fairer sex," the conquistador said.

"Juliet is quite capable of taking care of herself," Artemis said. He decided to change the line of questioning: "Identify yourself."

"Identify myself? I am Juan Ponce de León," the conquistador said. He was, of course, lying; Juan Ponce de León was five hundred years dead of an infected wound incurred while conquering the Caribs. "Trapped under the ocean for five hundred years. Identify _your_self, young master."

"Artemis Fowl, of Ireland," Artemis said.

Ponce de León narrowed his eyes, "I knew an Irish gentleman by the name of Lord Fowl once. He sold me on a venture, and then robbed me blind. I had to become a conquistador in order to reclaim the family honor, not to mention the family wealth."

Ouch. This was not good. "Um, I'm sorry for my ancestor's misdeed…"

"I am willing to forgive," said Ponce de León, "but I require something from you." His gaze had returned to Juliet, and neither Artemis nor Juliet liked the way he was leering.

"And what would that be?" Artemis asked, fearing he already knew the answer.

He did: "Your woman," said Ponce de León.

"I'm afraid that that is unacceptable," Artemis said.

"There will be other women for you, Master Fowl," Ponce de León said. "This is the first I've met in a long time, though…oh, so long…longer than you've been alive."

"Juliet, be prepared to shoot him," Artemis said, still in Spanish, so that Ponce de León would understand what was going on.

"Your woman is armed?" Ponce de León asked incredulously. In his time, such a thing would seem unnatural. "Very well, then; I will play." He walked towards Juliet. "Go ahead and shoot me, woman. Shoot me with your weird musket, in a musket it even be." In close quarters, his stench was unbearable. Sixteenth-century Europeans didn't bathe. Ever. Five hundred years of near-solitude and (presumably) wearing the same clothes day-in, day-out (unless he had spares hidden somewhere) did nothing to help his smell. When he got too close for comfort (meaning almost close enough to grab her gun), she fired. One round, through his armor, into the chest. He should have died, but managed to pull himself to the water's edge, and splash water onto the wound. The bullet actually forced its way out of his heart as his flesh reknitted. "You will pay for that, bitch."

"What the hell was that?" Juliet asked.

"The water has restorative properties," Artemis said. He put his brain to work: the water had restorative properties. This he knew, of course. It was why he was here, after all. It could even bring a dead body back to life, so it may have been possible that Ponce de León was, indeed, Juan Ponce de León, as he claimed. There wasn't any food down here, except for trolls, and whatever the trolls were eating (Artemis had decided long ago not to investigate this), so whoever Ponce de León was, however long he had been here, he was probably getting sustenance from the water, or rather, healing himself after getting emaciated. Maybe even cannibalizing his own flesh and then regenerating it via the water (there's a gruesome thought). Long-term exposure to the water created tolerance and dependency, though, for ones cells got replaced by the comet stuff, and I fact… "Juliet! Incapacitate him and drag him into the tunnel!"

Ponce de León actually took his attention off of Juliet long enough to give Artemis a look like he had just said something profoundly stupid. The man was several centuries behind current, so he thought he had. "You expect me to be incapacitated by a woman? Get real, kid." And then Juliet pinned his arms behind his back and, trying not to breath too deeply, pushed him out of the room one step at a time. As he realized what was happening, he began to scream, and plead, and flail frantically in an ill-advised attempt to escape. When they were in the tunnel, Ponce de León began to scream again, but this time with pain.

"Should I break his neck?" Juliet asked over his screams.

"It would be the merciful thing to do," Artemis said, mentally adding, _for all of us._

Juliet neatly snapped his neck, and dropped him. He then dissolved, leaving nothing but rusty armor and rotted clothing to prove he had ever been there. "What the hell was that?" she asked.

"It's a long story," Artemis said.

"We have a long way to go," Juliet said.

"That we do," Artemis said.

The story Artemis told her was incredible, involving fairies, trolls, and bad guys; and yet… "You still haven't told me what that lake actually _is_," Juliet said.

Artemis smiled. "A master performer never reveals the last plot twist until the end of the show," he said.

Now, they were at the well, and there was no trace that they had ever been in the tunnels (the troll corpses were taken care of quite nicely by a couple grenades).

"What happens in a troll-infested labyrinth underneath the Bermuda Triangle _stays_ in a troll-infested labyrinth underneath the Bermuda Triangle," she said softly.

"Yeah…unfortunately, if we delay any longer, Valdez will leave without us," Artemis said. Juliet could tell how it visibly pained him to say so. She kissed him, and then they climbed to the surface.

"You're late!" Valdez shouted at them. "Half an hour late! Hurry up and give me the antidote!"

"What antidote?" Artemis grinned.

"The antidote…oh, you _bastard_ of a child!" he positively screeched, catching on.

"Just drive the boat, Valdez," Juliet said.

Artemis's phone rang. Not a regular phone, but his fairy communicator. It had undergone another transition since his adventure with the demons, and now consisted of four parts. The first, the body of the device, which contained, amongst other things, the omni sensor, was disguised as an old-fashioned pocket watch. Then there was a speaker hidden in his ear, which of course, allowed him to hear what the other person was saying. (He had considered making it look like an ear piercing, but had decided that that would attract too much attention, at his tender age—maybe when he was older) The third part of the assemble was a flesh-colored patch on his throat, which picked up on the movement of his vocal cords, and translated them to speech. The fourth was the contact lens that he wore in his hazel eye, making it his natural color. It also served as a screen. The result of this collection was that he could carry on lengthy conversations while pretending to be asleep, say, on a red-eye flight from Miami to Dublin, and the person next to him, say, a certain bodyguard-turned-love interest, would be none the wiser.

"Hello," Artemis said, his eyes closed so he could clearly see the image of Foaly. The trick was to move the vocal cords as if speaking, while not speaking.

"I figured out what you were doing, you Mud Boy!" the centaur said.

"Why, whatever do you mean?" Artemis asked.

"Don't play dumb," Foaly said.

"I couldn't pull that act off if I tried," Artemis said.

It took Foaly a second to get it. "Oh, ha, ha. Very funny. Seriously Fowl. I know what you're doing, but not why."

"Think about it, Foaly," Artemis said, no longer playing dumb. "Why would I want this—or rather, for whom?"

"Oh," Foaly said, realizing everything. "Well, I suppose that I can forgive you, this once. Why didn't you tell me? I'd have helped you, even if it is against some rules."

"I know, but you'd eventually have to report to your superiors," Artemis said. "I'm not sure that the fairies are ready for what's there."

"What about the humans who already know about it?" Foaly asked.

"Well, if you want my opinion, leave them. They're doing a pretty good job of keeping that place secret. Even we had difficulty finding them. And they're not trying to conquer the world, or any weird thing like that," Artemis said. "It's up to you, though. If you think that fairies can know of this, go ahead and tell them. Now that you've figured it out, it's your problem," Artemis said.

"Gee, thanks," Foaly said.

"Consider it your reward for sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," Artemis said.

"Hey, Artemis, wake up," Juliet said.

"I've got to go, Foaly," Artemis said. He reached into his pocket and pressed the disconnect button on the master controller, hanging up on Foaly. "Yes?" he asked, opening his eyes.

Juliet had to admit, he _did_ look cute, asleep like that. Angelic. Every once in a while, he'd make this weird, nasally sound, which wasn't really a snore or a whine. She shook him awake. "Hey, Artemis, wake up."

When he opened his eyes and looked up at her, she was tempted to kiss him. "Yes?" he asked.

"Look, Artemis, I've been thinking, and I can't be your bodyguard anymore," Juliet said. "It's not that I don't still feel for you; quite the opposite, in fact: my feelings have only strengthened. But, well…"

"Conflict of interests," Artemis said. "I understand. After all, I'm hardly likely to be a good principal and let you sacrifice your life for mine. I was kind of hoping you wouldn't figure that out. I'm also kind of relieved. I hope you don't think it sexist of me if I say I want you to continue being a wrestler, where you're safe."

Juliet laughed. "Says something about your life, though, doesn't it? Don't worry, though; it's perfectly natural," she assured him. "You'll need a new bodyguard, though."

"So I will. I think I've already got one in mind, though," Artemis said.

Juliet mock-frowned. "Not a sexy female bodyguard, I hope?"

Artemis smiled brightly, "Nothing of the kind, I swear."

Butler was an old man. Nominally forty-three, he was more like fifty-eight. He had been a bodyguard, but now was retired. An old man, in a cottage by the sea. No one would believe the things he saw, the things he did.

There was a knock on the door. He opened it, and in came Artemis and Juliet, barely able to stand. Artemis rummaged through a duffel bag. "We took a red-eye from Miami to get here," Artemis said. "I have a surprise for you, and then Juliet and I are going to need a place to sleep—I mean, plac_es!_ Here, drink this." He tossed Butler an opened bottle of water.

"Artemis, that's—" Juliet started to say something.

"Just trust me, Juliet," Artemis said.

"I take it that this isn't what it says it is?" Butler said. Not asked; said.

"Just drink it, I only have enough energy for one dramatic speech, and I can't give it until you drink that water and tell me how it makes you feel," Artemis said.

Butler shrugged, and chugged the water. It didn't taste like anything special, but as for how it made him feel, it made him feel good. In fact, "I feel ten years younger."

"Twenty, actually," Artemis said. "That was water from the Fountain of Youth. And now that you're young enough to be a bodyguard again, how would you like a job? Juliet is good, but a recent…conflict of interests…has arisen," he put a world of implication in those words, and then, as if to prove the point further, he and Juliet kissed.

FIN

Author's Commentary (As If You Care)

So, did that whole fountain of youth revelation surprise anyone? Anyone at all? Aw, man.

Let me start off by saying that I took some liberties. Juan Ponce de León is an actual historical figure. If he had any blood connection to nobility at all, he was probably a noble's bastard child or a disinherited younger son, as was the pattern with conquistadors. Also, as far as I know, he and his family never had any dealings with any Irishmen named Fowl. I have no real idea who Ponce de León was, except that he discovered "the island of" Florida, supposedly while searching for the fountain of youth. Also, he really did die from an infected wound and really is buried somewhere in Cuba. Havana, I think. It's in this big churchy place.

The thing is, I am a Holly/Artemis fan, so why is it that my first _Artemis Fowl_ fanfic ships Juliet/Artemis? I dunno. This sort of thing also happened to me in FLCL, too (FLCL is the greatest anime ever; if you do not know what FLCL is, _learn!!!_).

Juliet/Artemis just seemed like a perfect fit for this story. I considered making it a Holly/Artemis fic, but then Artemis would have to have brought Holly along instead of Juliet, and, well, that would not have made much sense. Firstly, Artemis was doing this without the knowledge or consent of the fairies, and secondly, Holly would sort of stand out in a crowd. Besides, I was also writing another story which was Holly/Artemis at the time, and hey, you can't have all your eggs in one basket, as the saying goes (sadly said Holly/Artemis ship, as well as another story that may end up shipping Holly/Artemis but could just as easily not be a romance at all, have both been postponed indefinitely).

Also, the whole Aleš Hrdlička thing, that's all true. Do you honestly think that if I would make up a name, it would be something like Aleš Hrdlička? He just so happened to come up in a book I was reading while I was writing this. (I wasn't doing both at the same time, though, you understand.)

I don't really recall how I came up with the story, but it's possible that the fact that I was reading a book that was mainly about pre-Columbian America that also touched on the effect of Europeans and the history of Archeology in the Americas (hence the whole Aleš Hrdlička thing) might have had something to do with it. I'm not really sure, though…

Anyway, thank you for reading, please review, and tell all your friends. I hope you liked it. My vanity depends on your praise, lol. Oh, and if you can think of a better title for this story, I'd be happy to hear it (this is, like, the third time I couldn't come up with a title!).


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